


it's only the start

by kangtv (galacticnik)



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Ahn Hyungseob (minor), Alternate Universe - High School, Kim Donghyun (mentioned) - Freeform, Lai Guanlin (mentioned), Lee Daehwi (minor), M/M, grade anxiety is the worst, i dunno there's tutoring involved, woojin's lame, you tried.jpeg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 13:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12508300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticnik/pseuds/kangtv
Summary: Woojin fails a test and decides to get a tutor (and ends up with a little something more).





	it's only the start

**Author's Note:**

> lyrics from save the rest (오늘은 여기까지) by mxm. self-edited, so please forgive any mistakes!

The big fat _ **F**_ scrawled on the top of his test gives Woojin a heart attack the first time he sees lays eyes on it. Honestly, it’s not the first F he’s ever gotten, nor is it going to be the last. But he usually hovers somewhere in the solidly C- or D range, which, while bad, isn’t as bad as an F. Fs stand for _failure_ , and _farts_ , and _fucking awful_ , though maybe not in that order.

The second time he looks at the test is a lot easier. It still seems like it’s bleeding ink (gunshot wound to the page!), but Woojin has gotten used to the bright, bold letter grade now. He’s been staring at it for long enough. Groaning, he drops his head on the table and immediately regrets it. It’s sticky—does no one clean up around here? “Does it have to be so red?” he complains. There’s no answer from the peanut gallery and Woojin makes a mental note to find new friends.

Daehwi huffs and tugs the test out of his grasp. Woojin gropes around for a napkin but comes up empty, until Hyungseob shoves a flyer for a _SAVE THE PANDAS!_ donation drive into his hand instead. Woojin raises his head slowly and uses it to wipe his face with a silent apology to the pandas.

“Hyung,” Daehwi says finally, holding the offending test in his hands. He can see sympathy in his eyes. Woojin shudders. “No offense, but you’re stupid.”

“Catastrophically stupid,” Hyungseob agrees, resting his chin on Daehwi’s shoulder. Never mind that Hyungseob is _just as bad_ when it comes to grades. He's only preening because his test has a big fat B- on it, and even that is probably all thanks to Euiwoong. Well, sorry that Woojin doesn't have a smart as fuck boyfriend to leech notes and shit off of.

Snatching his test back, Woojin shoves it into his bag and stands up. “Thanks. Screw you too.” He doesn’t need to be told he’s stupid because he already knows. God, this is fucking depressing. “I’m going to grab a pork bun and a fork I can jab into my eye.” Sounds a lot less painful than having to show this test to his parents who are going to flip the fuck out. More F words!

“Oh! Get me one too,” Hyungseob says, and Woojin immediately growls out a _no_ before walking away. Find your own buns, asshole.

Hyungseob’s whiny “Pleeeeeaseeeee,” drowns out Daehwi’s more helpful, “Get a tutor, hyung!”

Woojin doesn’t register the advice until he’s halfway through his pork bun and scrambling to get to his next class. A tutor, huh? That… actually makes sense. His teacher’s willing to let him write a make-up test in two weeks, and if he can get someone to help him out with it, he could actually pass and avoid a nuclear meltdown at home.

Hm.

Maybe he’ll just keep Daehwi and trade Hyungseob in for another friend.

 

 —

 

It’s not like he’s dumb.

Woojin has Priorities in life and school happens to not be one of them. He can’t remember a time when he actually gave a shit about how he did in class (maybe back in kindergarden when he aced naptime and arts and crafts). Woojin plans to become an idol anyway, and he doesn’t need to know Math or Science or English for that. Well, English he probably _does_ need to know. Ironically, it’s his worst subject.

His parents are on a totally different page, so much so that they might as well be in a separate book altogether. They’re adamant that Woojin pay more attention to his schoolwork. “Keep your grades up,” his father warns, “Or we’ll pull you out of the dance academy.” When Park Senior tells you something in his low, gravelly voice, you listen. That man means business.

So Woojin has to pretend to care about his grades for the sake of the only thing he _actually_ cares about: dance. He hits Donghyun hyung up for help first, but he has a full schedule (hearing him list it out gives Woojin a stomachache) and won’t be able to help until after the make-up test is scheduled. However, Donghyun hyung does give Woojin a list of names of peer tutors who are free.

At the top of the list is Park Jihoon. Woojin re-reads the name three times to make sure, but sadly (or luckily), it doesn’t magically morph into something else.

Donghyun hyung _seriously_ expects him to contact a whole Park Jihoon, also known as one of the smartest guys in his year? Woojin is pretty sure there’s some kind of law against it. He’s unworthy to speak to him and probably unworthy to even look at him (not that he’s ever tried). Maybe he should make an attempt. Seems like just being around Jihoon might make him smarter via osmosis or something. If… that’s how it works (it’s not; this isn’t how one transfers IQ points). Hell, maybe he can just buy answers off Jihoon, if he doesn’t have time for tutoring.

Of course, all of that requires actually talking to the guy, which Woojin isn’t sure he wants to do.

But he _is_ sure that he really, really wants to pass his make-up test.

Guess this means he’s going to have to put on his big boy pants and beg for help.

_Park Jihoon, save me._

 

 —

 

After cleaning duty, Woojin heads to the library where Jihoon is rumored to lurk. He pays for the guy’s whereabouts with half of his lunch, and as depressing as it is to see his food vanish into the bottomless pit that is Lai Guanlin’s stomach, his Jihoon-related information is usually reliable. And Woojin really needs to find Jihoon and talk to him in _private_ so that his awful grade can remain somewhat of a secret.

He finds Jihoon by the window, his lips pursed in concentration as he pours over his books. The afternoon light filters through and bathes him in gold. The whole scene reminds him of a painting. _Park Jihoon (2017), oil on canvas._ But Woojin is struck dumb at the sight; he feels like he’s intruding on an intimate moment not meant for him. It’s awkward. He panics and nearly backs out of talking to him until Jihoon’s voice cuts through the silence. “Are you going to say something or just stand there with your mouth open?”

Uh, wow. Not exactly what he expects to hear come out of Jihoon’s mouth, but Woojin can roll with it (he thinks). Squaring his shoulders, he says, “Sorry, uh, did I disturb you?” He eyes the seat across from Jihoon, but he doesn’t want to pull out a chair without being invited to. Woojin might need a tutor for like, every subject except for physical education, but he’s not _rude_.

“Sort of, yes.” Jihoon scribbles something down in his notebook. He has really neat handwriting. “You’re the lesser Park, right? Park Woojin?”

 _Lesser Park?_ “Yeah, Park Woojin, the… just-right Park.” Medium? Average? He doesn’t like the sound of _lesser_. Not that it really matters; if he can get Jihoon to tutor him, he’ll let the guy call him whatever he wants. The more pressing issue here is—“How do you know my name?”

“Well, we’re both Parks,” Jihoon says, reaching for a textbook and flipping to a page with too many words and zero pictures. He hasn’t looked up once. Woojin wonders if he should be offended. “And Donghyun hyung mentioned you would be coming to talk to me sometime soon.”

 _Thanks and no thanks, Donghyun hyung._ At least it saves him some time. “About the tutoring thing, yeah? Because I have a make-up test coming up and I really need some help. If I don’t pass with at least a B, I’m in deep shit. Like, no kidding. My ass is fried—and it’s a great, wholesome, healthy ass.” Woojin is word vomiting. He’s word vomiting in front of Jihoon, who seems singularly unimpressed. Clearing his throat, he tries to calm down. “Donghyun hyung said you were one of the best so… help me out?”

The pause that settles between them is uncomfortable. Woojin shifts from foot to foot, waiting for Jihoon to look up or say yes. He really wants him to say yes. After a while, Jihoon’s pen stills. “You can’t afford my services,” he says flatly.

Woojin blinks. Seriously? That’s all? It sounds like a dismissal if he’s ever heard one. “Hey,” he says. Jihoon’s pen starts moving across the page again. He still refuses to look up and Woojin’s starting to get annoyed. Sucking in a breath, he slams his hands down on the table. Jihoon’s books bounce a little into the air. “ _C’mon_ ,” he says sharply, his voice rising.

Jihoon finally looks up and Woojin is struck by how bright his eyes are. _Pretty_ , he thinks, then flushes. Dammit, not the time or place to notice Jihoon’s sparkling gaze or the slope of his nose or his full, red lips. NO, danger. Woojin rubs his nose and swallows. Jihoon notices his struggles (and traffic light of a face), his lips curving into a smile.

Woojin clears his throat. “I—I’m desperate, man. I know I can’t pay too much, but—”

“Okay,” Jihoon says, effectively cutting him off. He twirls his pen around in his hands. His expression is blank, impassive. Woojin has no idea what the fuck he’s thinking or what caused him to change his mind. “I’ll do it _if_ ,” and there it comes, the Condition, “you buy me meat and take me to watch the new Thor movie.”

“Yeah, s—wait, what?” Woojin frowns. “You want me to take you to dinner and a movie?” He’s not sure he heard that right. That was a dinner and a movie invitation (or demand), wasn’t it? “Is this like, a date or something?”

“No?” Jihoon tilts his head to the side, adorably bemused, as if the thought didn’t even cross his mind. So Woojin swears it’s just his imagination working overdrive when he hears, “Unless you want it to be?”

To quote Jaehwan hyung, _Okay, okay, okay_. Woojin’s head hurts. “This got weird fast.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Jihoon points out.

And fair enough; maybe ‘dinner and a movie’ was bad phrasing. Most likely, Jihoon just wants free stuff for his troubles. Woojin can understand that. Woojin can respect that. “Fine, deal. But only if I pass the test.” If he fails, then the tutoring isn’t effective, is it? Jihoon just shrugs and he takes that as a yes. “And,” Woojin hesitates. “It’s not a date.”

“Of course,” Jihoon says. He sounds bored of the conversation. “I’ll text you.” Woojin watches as he goes back to his books and starts aggressively flipping through pages until he ends up at the index.

Woojin doesn’t ask how Jihoon has (or is going to get) his number, just nods wordlessly and leaves before the bell rings.

It’s probably his imagination again, but he _swears_ Jihoon watches him leave—or maybe he’s looking at his ass, since Woojin did call it ‘great, wholesome, and healthy.’ He should probably stop talking for the rest of his life.

On some level, Woojin regrets this whole tutoring thing.

 

 —

 

 **park jihoon** _[ 22:03 ]:_  
hey lesser park  
study session at the library after school tomorrow  
you better be free

 **park woojin** _[ 22:10 ]:_  
can u stop calling me that  
im free i guess  
ill wait for u outside class?

 **park jihoon** _[ 22:12 ]:_  
park junior?  
just head straight to the library  
whoever gets there first can grab a table

 **park woojin** _[ 22:14 ]:_  
woojin is fine  
and ok  
see u then

 **park jihoon** _[ 22:15 ]:_  
park #2?

 **park woojin** _[ 22:15 ]:_  
…  
sure

 

 —

 

Woojin is the first one there and snags a free table near the back of the room. Not near the window, because Jihoon and natural lighting is kind of distracting. He stacks his books one on top of the other and sits back, waiting for Jihoon to show up. Minutes pass. Woojin taps his pen against his books and hums under his breath. Jihoon seems like a punctual person, so where the hell is he?

Frowning, Woojin pulls out his phone and opens their chat when Jihoon bursts through the door. Huffing, he jogs over and drops his book bag on the table with a dull thunk. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, sinking into a chair. His cheeks are pink, hair in a disarray, and Woojin thinks he looks cute for a fleeting second before Jihoon continues, “Well, not that sorry, I guess. I’m doing this for free.”

Woojin grimaces. “You’re doing this for the price of meat and a movie ticket.”

“And popcorn.”

“And popcorn,” Woojin agrees.

“Or maybe nachos. I haven’t decided yet.” Jihoon pauses. “Popcorn _and_ nachos.”

How much can Jihoon eat? Woojin shakes his head. “Okay, slow down there. Food only comes after I pass the test. _If_ I pass the test.” He might be a little (a lot) stressed out. “Which is in a week and a half, so could we maybe get to the studying part of this relationship?”

“You’ll be fine,” Jihoon says, pulling out his books and spreading them out. Those are a lot of books. Is it too late to run away and accept the F? Closing his eyes, Woojin pictures his father’s angry face—verging on purple with the vein in his forehead sticking out. Yeah, nevermind. “Why are you so desperate anyway?” Jihoon continues. “I never got the impression you cared very much.” An indignant squawking noise bursts out of Woojin’s mouth. “About grades, I mean.”

“My parents,” is all Woojin has the energy to say. He can understand their anxieties at the end of the day and he knows they have a point, so he’s both guilty and annoyed over his failure to be the brainiac child they deserve.

Jihoon is silent for a while. A series of complicated emotions flash across his face, eventually settling into something akin to understanding. His expression is soft, almost sympathetic, then shifts into a more neutral one when he sees Woojin looking at him. “I’ll whip you into shape,” Jihoon says, clearing his throat.

“Kinky, Mr. Park.”

“Oh,” Jihoon leans towards him and lowers his voice. “We haven’t even _started_ talking kinky yet,” he smirks, and Woojin swallows thickly because he doesn’t want to play this game anymore. Jihoon and that voice make him think bad things, especially when he still looks artfully messy and tempts Woojin into wanting to run his hands through his hair and over a few other places.

His face grows warm. “Let’s just study,” he mutters, opening his notebook.

“Whatever you say.” Jihoon laughs with his head thrown back. The sound is both annoying self-satisfied and annoyingly something else. Woojin can’t help but notice he has a really beautiful neck. Tantalizing, and he means that in a completely non-creepy way. Fuck, he sounds like a vampire.

Woojin hunches down in his seat. Focusing is going to be a challenge because Park Jihoon might just be the most dangerous person he’s ever met.

 

 —

 

To Woojin’s surprise, Jihoon is a good tutor.

But _of course_ he’s a good tutor. He has to be if Donghyun hyung recommended him. Woojin is still surprised by how good. Jihoon’s explanations are clear and simple to follow. He’s patient too, taking the time to explain and re-explain things Woojin doesn’t understand (of which there are lots).

At the same time, it’s weird. He’s never actually felt dumb until he sits next to Jihoon and hears all these words and concepts come out of his mouth at rapid speeds. Jihoon is really fucking smart, but he isn’t condescending about it. So the weirdness is offset by the rush of gratitude Woojin feels towards him. And, you know, gratitude isn’t the only thing—he’s a tiny bit in awe of Jihoon too.

Some people are just blessed, he thinks. Jihoon is as close to perfect as he can think of. He has the brains, the temperament, the popularity, the skills, and the looks. Though he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, Woojin can overlook it because Jihoon is nice to look at. Sometimes, Woojin zones out during their study sessions; Jihoon is more interesting than the dry material he’s studying.

And who doesn’t like looking at artwork?

“Hey,” Jihoon says, pulling him out of his thoughts. His grin is too smug for Woojin’s liking. “I know I’m handsome and everything, but you might want to focus.”

“I wasn’t staring at you,” Woojin says immediately. His cheeks flush. “You’re not that handsome anyway.” Like he didn’t just compare him to artwork and think about pinning him against the wall in a totally non-romantic way. 1% romantic. Definitely under 10% romantic.

Jihoon kicks him under the table. Woojin yelps and earns a scathing look from the librarian, while Jihoon bats his eyes at them both, the very picture of innocence. Despite his soft, cherubic looks, Woojin has come to realize he’s the farthest thing from an angel. _Miles_ away, veering into demonic territory. After all, you know what they say about temptation.

Or something. Woojin doesn’t read; he has no idea what they say or who _they_ are.

And fine, he might’ve been staring at Jihoon a little bit and his heart might’ve been beating a little bit faster every time they make eye contact or Jihoon’s hands brush against his, but that, according to Guanlin, is a perfectly normal reaction to spending more than an hour in close proximity with the guy.

Really.

_Normal._

(He’s fucked).

 

 —

 

At some point, he starts counting every smile Jihoon throws his way, memorizes the sound of his laugh, imprints the image of his head thrown back, eyes crinkled in pure happiness, onto the back of his eyelids. There’s something about the way Jihoon speaks and acts around Woojin that comes across as more genuine than he is around other people. Like he can relax and let down his guard, and Woojin doesn’t know if it’s because Jihoon likes him or doesn’t want to bother putting up a facade.

Either way, Woojin appreciates it. He likes this Jihoon. Likes Jihoon, period, as tough as it is to admit. He waffles over it for the span one (1) extra long shower before bed, emerging with pruney fingers and the conviction that he is 80% into Jihoon and it’s not all physical either. He starts looking forward to the dinner and movie too, and vows he’ll pass so he can actually take Jihoon out.

But as the test looms closer, Woojin’s stress levels start rising. Jihoon lends him his extensive notes and stays with him after school every day to go over (and go over, and _go over_ ) everything he needs to know and could ever need to know from now until graduation, but Woojin just feels stupid because there’s so much he doesn’t get.

The night before D-Day, Woojin isn’t nearly as confident as he should. He really wants to pass this test, but every time he closes his eyes, the _F_ swims in front of his face. Woojin accidentally spills out a good chunk of his anxieties as he and Jihoon walk home together after school. They took a small detour to the bubble tea cafe because Jihoon was thirsty, and Woojin tagged along since the sooner he goes home the sooner he has to start revising.

It could almost be a date, if Woojin weren’t wigging out.

“You’ll be fine,” Jihoon insists, slurping through the straw. “I trust in you. Besides, you’re working off _my_ notes.” He sounds pretty proud of himself. Woojin has to concede; his notes are pretty great, but Woojin… isn’t. That osmosis thing? Doesn’t really work. Dammit, this would’ve been a lot easier if Jihoon’s smartness had just rubbed off on him.

Sighing, Woojin tries to swipe the bubble tea from Jihoon’s hands, but Jihoon elbows him in the gut and twists out of his reach. Woojin doubles over and groans in feigned pain. “Dude, you’re killing me,” he chokes out, clutching his stomach.

Jihoon ignores his dramatics. “Believe in yourself more,” he says, biting down on the straw. He blinks up at Woojin, who is momentarily taken aback by the deep, unwavering faith in Jihoon’s eyes. Jihoon really sounds like he means it, like he believes in Woojin. It’s almost enough to make Woojin believe in himself. “You’re not stupid, you know, just lazy.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he says drily. Jihoon’s not wrong, even though his blunt statement did sort of ruin the emotional moment they were having a couple of seconds ago.

Jihoon comes to a halt. “Woojin,” he begins, latching onto his sleeve and tugging Woojin towards him. He stumbles and nearly falls into Jihoon, stopping himself just short of knocking them both over. Jihoon’s face is so close to his. Woojin holds his breath, though he doesn’t know what for. “Pass,” Jihoon murmurs. His breath is warm on Woojin’s face, but he shivers for some inexplicable reason. “Or I’m going to sit on you and put you in a headlock.”

“Not the kind of encouragement I had in mind,” Woojin chokes out.

They stare at each for a moment before Jihoon laughs, breaking the tension. Then, lightning quick, he darts forward and presses his lips to the corner of Woojin’s mouth. “Good luck,” he whispers. “Bring me an A, okay?” Pulling away, he snickers at the dumbfounded look on Woojin’s face before stepping back. “I have a horse in this race—you owe me a date, remember?”

“Why?” he blurts out, because Woojin has been wondering ever since day one and the timing is almost right for it. Why did Jihoon agree to tutor him for some food and movie? The cost of that is nothing compared to what Jihoon is doing for him.

Jihoon smiles like he knows a secret Woojin doesn’t. “You were desperate and cute,” he says, shrugging. “And I didn’t really think you’d go for it.” Woojin opens his mouth to say something (in indignation, probably, though something flutters in the pit of his stomach too), but Jihoon is already walking ahead. He turns back only to say,“Go to bed early tonight too! No playing that dumbass rhythm game till midnight.”

Woojin is ten different kinds of shook and can only stand there as Jihoon disappears into his apartment building. “I—I’ll try,” he calls out a beat too late. He doesn’t even know if Jihoon hears him, but that isn’t the point of it. Saying it out loud makes him feel more confident about it. He _will_ try.

Because, as nervous as he is, Woojin is also properly motivated.

He has a date to look forward to, after all.

 

 —

 

Woojin blanks for the first ten minutes of the test.

The questions stare back up at him mockingly, and all Woojin can think is: _what if his hand cramps while he’s trying to write or his pencil snaps or the legs of his chair break or he bursts into tears because he’s going to fail yet again—_

If Jihoon was here, he’d tell Woojin to stop and take a deep breath. His grip on his pencil tightens. Alright, he can do that. He knows how to breathe. _One, two, three, and release. Repeat._

Once Woojin calms his heart down, he looks at the test again. Instinct kicks in moments later; Woojin takes it one question at a time until he reaches the end. Parts of it are tough, others are really easy and freak him out _because_ they’re easy. By the time he finishes, he’s sweated through his shirt, but it’s done and finished and Park Woojin is free.

The teacher tells him he’ll give the test back by the end of the day. Woojin sleepwalks through the rest of his classes and ends up lingering by the doorway after the final bell rings. His stomach is twisted up in knots as he accepts the marked test with a quiet, “thanks,” and shoves it into his bag.

Jihoon told him to wait to check his grade, but Woojin is impatient and desperate and really awful at listening to what other people tell him to do. By the time he meets Jihoon out in the courtyard, he’s torn between feeling guilty and relieved—but mostly relieved. A weight’s been lifted off his shoulders and Woojin feels like he could _soar_ or something appropriately cheesy. He can’t stop grinning.

He finds Jihoon bent over a book and munching on a cookie. He looks peaceful and completely absorbed in whatever he’s doing, so naturally, Woojin pounces on him, bringing both hands down to rest on his shoulders. “So,” he says, bending low and bringing his lips to Jihoon’s ear. “Should I pick you up at six for our date tomorrow?”

Jihoon yelps. “ _Warn a guy_ ,” he hisses, craning his neck around. His face is dotted with crumbs from his midday snack. Woojin reaches out to wipe them with his sleeve and Jihoon bats his hand away, flushing pink. “Proof first! I demand proof.”

Woojin eases off and digs into his bag to pull out his test with a _tah-dah_! He takes special care to highlight the _**B+**_ on the top righthand corner of the page. Jihoon squints down at it, then drags a nail across the letter to make sure it’s a D Woojin turned into a B+. Satisfied that it hasn’t been doctored, he tips his head back and smiles at Woojin. “I _knew_ you could do it,” he says, practically radiating happiness. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” He genuinely means it. “I couldn’t have done this without you.” He would’ve been forever stuck in the swampy C-D land if it weren’t for Jihoon’s notes and teaching and just _Jihoon_ in general. “So it’s all you can eat time at the barbecue restaurant during our date as a token of my gratitude.”

Jihoon’s eyes light up at the sound of ‘all you can eat’ and ‘barbeque,’ but narrow again as Woojin leans forward to put his hands on his shoulders once more. “But I thought you said it wasn’t a date.”

Right. He did make a big deal about that. But that was before Jihoon and the B+ and the fleeting almost-kiss that Woojin can still feel on the corner of his mouth. Now he’s on the top of the world and he’s not afraid. Taking the plunge is simple; he just leaps. “I changed my mind,” Woojin says. “I want it to be one because I like you, Park Jihoon, and I want to take you out.”

Jihoon grins. “I like you too, lesser Park.”

From his vantage point, it’s pretty easy for Woojin to put Jihoon into a chokehold. Sputtering, Jihoon croaks out, “ _Park Woojin, Park Woojin_ ,” until he releases him. That ‘lesser Park’ thing was really getting on his nerves, and if someone’s going to confess to him, it better be using his actual name. As if he can read Woojin’s mind, Jihoon massages his throat and laughs. “I really like you, _Park Woojin_ , and I’m glad you passed.”

“I’m glad I _failed_ and met you.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “But try not to fail again? I don’t want to date someone dumb.”

Well, he’s not _planning_ to, especially if he has access to Jihoon’s notes and private tutoring skills indefinitely, but nonetheless, Woojin salutes him with a firm nod. “Got it,” he says seriously. “As your future boyfriend, I will do my best not to embarrass you.”

“Future boyfriend?” Jihoon’s eyes twinkle. “Getting kind of cocky there, aren’t we?”

“You told me to believe in myself,” Woojin replies accusingly.

Jihoon grabs him by the collar and pulls him closer, their lips almost touching. “I guess I did,” he murmurs. “I like it when you aim high.” A pause, then, “I like all of you.”

Woojin chuckles and closes the distance between them, sinking into the light, playful kiss, Jihoon’s mouth warm under his.

And you know what? He likes all of Jihoon too.

**Author's Note:**

> for the following prompt from my cc: _2park - bad student!Woojin (too focused in dance only) and cute tutor!Jihoon._ clearly, i got carried away and veered off track, but an attempt was made! i hope this is close(ish) to what the prompter expected - i tried, at least!
> 
> friendly reminder that chris hemsworth, aka thor, did jeojang because this knowledge haunts me every single day of my life.
> 
> thank you for reading ❤


End file.
